


A Sudden Turn

by tinadp



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 21:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3356249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinadp/pseuds/tinadp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porthos suddenly becomes ill, his brothers strive to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sudden Turn

**Author's Note:**

> All fluff without much plot, just the boys taking care of Porthos.

Athos and Aramis brought their lunch to their usual table in the garrison courtyard. They glanced over to where Porthos was sparring with one of the new recruits. "What is he doing with that gnat?" Athos questioned and Aramis grinned. 

"Martineau has been quite persistent since Porthos put him in his place last time. I think he just grew tired of listening to him. "

"There's something about him I just don't like." Athos frowned 

"I don't trust him," D'Artagnan added coming up to the table with a plate of food for himself and one for Porthos.

Aramis shrugged,"Perhaps he's just trying to prove himself."

"Maybe...." D'Artagnan did not look at all convinced. He called over to his friend, "Porthos, I have your lunch." 

Porthos nodded to D'Artagnan and put up his hand to stop Martineau. The man did not stop however, he took advantage of Porthos' lack of attention to make contact with his blade, striking with the man's chest as he turned away. Porthos turned to look at the recruit, the fury evident on his face. He took hold of the young man's shoulder with one hand and shoved him firmly back onto the ground. 

Martineau scrambled away offering apologies but Porthos completely ignored him. The others were on their feet as he reached the table. Their rage was barely contained, as was that of Treville watching from outside his office. The recruit was the son of a noble, the position of his family had assured at least a chance at a commission, but from what the captain had seen so far there was little chance of him advancing. 

Aramis reached out taking hold of Porthos' shirt to take a look at the wound. "It's fine Aramis, just a scratch." He growled sitting at the table. 

"Let me take a look please." He waited for Porthos to nod before unbuttoning his friends shirt. The wound was superficial but it was a long slice. Aramis frowned at the sight of it. "Let me at least clean it, he doesn't seem the sort to keep his weapons clean." He sneered and the others chuckled softly, knowing what a grave insult that was from Aramis. 

"Fine," Porthos smiled at his friend, "I know you won't leave me alone until I let you coddle me."

"Someone has to look after you Porthos, "Aramis tutted, "You certainly wouldn't do it yourself."

"What do you need Aramis?" D'Artagnan asked.

"Just some wine," D'Artagnan handed him his glass and Aramis pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. Porthos hissed as his friend doused the wound liberally with the alcohol. 

After Aramis was satisfied that the wound was clean they sat back down to lunch. The three realized at that point that Athos was no longer with them. The looked around the courtyard a moment and spotted him heading back down the stairs from Treville's office. 

Aramis raised an eyebrow questioningly as he returned to the table. "Just having a chat with the captain about our new recruits."

"Athos, it's not a big deal..." Porthos began but Athos raised his hand to stop his friend. 

"That is not how a Musketeer or a gentleman would behave. I was just sharing my opinion with the captain." He turned to Aramis,"How did the wound look?"

"I'm right here," Porthos chimed in, "It's my wound...."

Athos looked at Aramis expectantly, "It's superficial, it should be fine."

"Good," Athos nodded, "Let's get back to our lunch then."

The four men ate in relative silence, the jovial mood of the morning soured. Aramis noted Porthos rubbing at his chest around the wound. "Porthos, are you alright?" He asked in concern. 

"I'm fine, it's just feeling prickly. No need for you to go in to full mothering mode." He grinned at his friend who playfully glared back in return. 

"Gentleman, why don't we move along . The captain has assured me that he doesn't need us this afternoon to drill with the recruits. I'd be happy to buy you all drinks at the tavern." Athos suggested and the others nodded in agreement.

As Porthos stood he found himself suddenly dizzy and swaying. D'Artagnan was beside him and quickly grabbed the large man's arm as he closed his eyes and tightly gripped the table in front of him. "Porthos?"

Porthos was silent for a moment, getting his bearings than stood up straight once again and opened his eyes to three very concerned faces. "I'm fine, sorry. Must have just gotten up too fast." The three faces looked quite doubtful and even Porthos had to admit he was suddenly feeling quite ill. 

He felt very cold and was struggling not to shiver. "On second thought, I may just head back to my quarters for a rest."

"Porthos, what's wrong?" Aramis stood directly in front of him and Athos and D'Artaganan flanked his sides. 

"I dunno, just not feeling so good." He was starting to shiver fiercely but his fingers and toes tingled and burned. He swayed once again and Athos and D'Artagnan took hold of his arms. 

"We need to get him lying down," Aramis took control of the situation. 

"The infirmary?" D'Artagnan questioned. 

"Absolutely not," Porthos managed, his voice lacking its usual conviction. 

Aramis shook his head,"His quarters are closer, let's get him there for now."

The short trip to his quarters seemed long and arduous to Porthos. His arms and legs were weak and just not cooperating with what he wanted them to do. By the time they reached his door his friends were nearly carrying him. 

They gently placed him on the bed and Aramis started removing his uniform. Athos and D'Artagnan stood by feeling helpless. 

"Porthos," Aramis leaned down to his friend," Tell me how you are feeling. "

"Sooo cold," he spoke through chattering teeth. 

"What else?" Aramis asked holding on to his shoulders, "It's important."

Porthos was silent a moment, trying to take a mental inventory of everything that felt wrong. "I just don't feel......right. My hands and feet are prickly and burning, here too,"he touched his chest, "My face feels numb. I'm dizzy. My body just isn't working right...." He paused, breathless and shivering. 

"That's good Porthos." Aramis reassured turning to the others. "D'Artagnan," he spoke softly, I need you to let Treville know what's happening and get a physician, I think he may have been poisoned. Athos, I need an emetic to try to purge the poison, there should be some in the infirmary."

The two men were horrified by the possibility but did not waste a moment. Aramis pulled the covers up over his shivering friend and sat on the edge of the bed beside him, holding onto his hand. 

"What's wrong with me 'Mis?" Aramis paused before answering, not sure if knowing what was happening would really be best for Porthos. "The truth."

Aramis sighed, "I think you may have been poisoned. But don't worry Porthos we'll take care of you."

Porthos smiled, having complete trust in his friends, "You always do." 

Aramis managed a faint smile in return as Porthos closed his eyes. He checked Porthos' pulse and frowned at how erratic it was. He wracked his brain trying to figure what could be causing his friends symptoms. He was fearful that he would not be able to save him and desperately prayed for the arrival of the physician and the return of his friends. 

It seemed like hours but Aramis was sure it was only a few minutes before Athos returned with a small glass bottle. "How is he?" Athos asked, breathless. 

Aramis sighed, "Not very good," he whispered. His heart....his pulse it's very irregular dangerously so I fear. "

"Will this help?" Athos handed him the bottle. 

"I don't know, I'm not sure what to do for him. I'm not even sure if it is poison. But I'm afraid we will lose him if he don't do something."

Athos nodded,"What do you need me to do?"

We need to get him sitting up to drink this and to be sure that he doesn't inhale any of his sickness into his lungs. "Porthos," Aramis touched his shoulder and Porthos' eyes fluttered open. "We have to give you some medicine." He paused waiting for an acknowledgment from his friend before continuing. Porthos managed a slight nod and Aramis continued. "Athos is going to help you sit up."

Athos kicked off his boots and climbed onto the bed lifting Porthos to a sitting position and then slid in behind him. Then he gently leaned the man back against him. Aramis frowned at how lethargic the big man seemed, he took his hand and squeezed it. Porthos' eyes opened in response but he did not squeeze back. He took hold of his other hand as well and asked Porthos to squeeze them. He tried to hide his worry as Porthos could not. At that point his friend was not aware enough to even notice his concern and Aramis knew he had to move quickly. 

"Porthos!" He shook him gently, "Open your eyes, I need you to drink this." After much prodding Porthos managed to slowly open his eyes. "I'm sorry my friend, this will make you ill but we must get rid of the poison." Athos held Porthos head up as Aramis poured the liquid in. Then Aramis quickly grabbed the chamber pot positioning it in front of Porthos on his lap. 

It was not long before the medicine kicked in and Porthos was violently ill. Aramis and Athos watched with feelings of sadness and helplessness. Athos did his best to support his friend who was too weak to even hold himself upright. In between bouts of sickness he pulled Porthos back against his chest, leaning close to his friend, trying to offer some physical comfort. 

Aramis sponged his face and neck with a damp cloth, noticing how he had started sweating profusely. He spoke soft encouraging words, unsure if Porthos could even hear him any longer. 

There a a loud knock on the door and Treville strode in, his face falling at the sight of his Musketeer. He looked to Aramis, "How is he?"

Aramis did not respond, that was enough for Treville to feel his stomach drop. "D'Artagnan has gone to fetch the physician. What can I do?"

Aramis sighed,"I fear that I do not know." He whispered scrubbing his hand over his face. He ran his hand through Porthos' hair, gently stroking his head. 

"Do you think that is the end of the sickness?" Athos asked quietly. 

Aramis nodded, "I believe so, let's try to get a little water into him before we lay him down." Treville was instantly at his side with a cup of water. "Porthos?" Aramis touched his cheek. "Porthos can you hear me? I need you to drink some water for me."

Porthos eyes opened half way and he opened his mouth slightly. "Very good my friend." Aramis whispered and tipped the cup to his lips. Porthos managed a few sips but then closed his mouth, shaking his head slightly. "Okay then, that's enough for now." Aramis soothed."

They waited a few minutes to be sure his stomach was settled before Athos slipped out from behind him and they positioned him on his side. Aramis felt again for his pulse, feeling slightly panicked at how much it had slowed and how even more irregular its rhythm seemed. 

"Aramis?" Treville asked softly seeing the expression on his face. 

"I'm at a loss as to how to help him. This is well beyond my skills..." He fell silent, overwhelmed with emotion. Athos moved closer to Aramis silently squeezing his hand. 

"We will find a way to help him. D'Artagnan will be back with the physician any minute." Treville tried to portray the confidence he wished he felt. 

While they waited Aramis returned to Porthos' side, once again sponging his sweaty face and neck while Athos stood on the other side of the bed, his hand resting on Porthos' shoulder. Aramis frequently checked his pulse, worried about it slowing any further. 

After a time the door banged open and the others looked up expectantly. D'Artagnan was there, but he was accompanied by one of the new recruits, not the physician. "The physician was in surgery," he was breathless, "He will come as soon as he is finished. Lavoie has something important to tell us."

The young man stepped nervously forward, casting a concerned look at Porthos as he began. "Martineau has been bad mouthing Porthos, saying terrible things since they sparred. He kept saying he would come out on top, he was of noble blood. We all ignored him, Porthos has been kind to all of us. When I saw him fall ill today I knew something was not right. I went to the barracks and searched Martineau's things. I found this." He produced a pouch and opened it, revealing leaves and roots from a plant. 

"Aconite," Aramis whispered "He was poisoned. 

"Will the purging be enough?" Athos asked

"I don't know..." Aramis began. 

Before he could continue Lavoie spoke again. "I don't think he fed it to him. My grandmother was a healer and taught me about plants as a child. She told me warriors and hunters would put sap from aconite on the tips of arrows and their spears. I found this as well." He reached a gloved hand into the bag and pulled out a small bottle filled with a sticky looking substance. 

"I will kill him myself."Athos growled.

Aramis put a hand on his arm,"First we must take care of Porthos." He turned to Lavoie. "Do you know of any treatments for the poisoning? I am most worried that his heart is beating very very slowly and the rhythm is not right. "

Lavoie began hesitantly," I am not a healer myself..."

"Please Lavoie," D'Artagnan interjected, terrified by how still and pale Porthos looked, "The physician is not here, please tell us whatever you think might help Porthos."

"If his heart has slowed, I believe it could be treated with belladonna."

Aramis' eyes lit up with hope,"Yes! I hadn't thought of that I think it may work. D'Artagnan you take Lavoie and go find some belladonna. Try the infirmary , but if there's none there back to the physician. And hurry please...." The two men were off in an instant. 

"If you do not need me now, I will go find Martineau and place him under arrest." Treville made for the door pausing for a response from the two men. 

Aramis nodded,"Thank you captain, we are fine for now." He and Athos turned back to Porthos, each seated on one side if his bed, Aramis leaned close to him. "Porthos my friend, you must hold on and keep fighting. Our Gascon has gone to get you the medicine you need. Athos and I are right here." Athos sat silently tightly gripping the unconscious man's hand as Aramis dropped to his knees and began to pray. 

It seemed like they waited an eternity. Porthos' breathing had become ragged and irregular, a gurgling sound could be heard between breaths, his heart still beating but even more slowly. Athos could see that Aramis was struggling to remain composed, he too was struggling to imagine how they could on without Porthos. 

Finally the young men returned. Lavoie quickly mixed the dried plant into some water as the others gently pulled Porthos into a sitting position. Aramis gently poured it drop by drop into Porthos mouth. 

"Do you know how long it will be?" D'Artagnan asked the recruit. 

He shook his head, " I'm sorry I don't know. I've never used it."

Aramis turned to Lavoie,"Don't be sorry, you have given us our only hope of saving him. We will be forever grateful, no matter what happens." He said softly. 

They settled Porthos back down in bed, D'Artagnan looked to Aramis and Athos for permission before sitting beside him. "Of course D'Artagnan," Athos realized the young man had not had any time with Porthos since the whole thing had happened and he quickly put the chair close to the bed for him. 

"You can talk to him D'Artagnan, I believe he still may be able to hear us even if he cannot respond." Aramis sat on the other side of the bed. 

"I will pray for Porthos," Lavoie offered as he opened the door to leave, knowing there was nothing to do but wait and not wanting to disturb them. "I will be in the courtyard if there is anything I can do." The men nodded their thanks as he left. 

"Porthos, "D'Artagnan began hesitantly, "Porthos you must fight. We need you with us." He found himself sobbing and unable to continue. Athos stood behind him placing his hands on his shoulders, and Aramis returned to his prayers. 

The physician arrived some time later with nothing more to offer. He praised the use of belladonna and his only other advice was to wait and see. Within 24 hours he told them, Porthos would either be on the road to recovery or dead. The three men struggled to contain their emotion and clung to each other as soon as the man left. 

Lavoie returned with a tray of supper from Serge. After checking to be sure they were not in need of anything he left quickly, not wanting to intrude on their vigil. The food and wine remained on the table untouched. 

Hours passed with little change in his condition. Slowly, his heart rate began to increase but he remained unconscious. Treville returned to check on Porthos and let them know that Martineau seemed to have deserted but he had sent a group of Musketeers to find him. Not wanting to leave he settled himself on the floor by the hearth to watch over his men. D'Artagnan and Aramis stood immediately offering their chairs but he waved them off. Athos had settled himself on the end of Porthos' bed, needing some physical contact with his friend.

At some point very late into the night they all drifted off to a restless sleep. It was in the predawn hours that Aramis woke, after getting his bearings he felt panicked that he could no longer hear the sound of Porthos' labored breathing and feared the worst. He was unable to contain a sob and reached out in the darkness to feel his friend. He placed his hand on his chest and was relieved and grateful to feel it rise and fall normally, he then checked his pulse and found that to be back to normal as well. 

"'Mis? What's the matter?" He could not believe he was hearing the sound of his friends voice once more. He struggled the light the candle beside the bed and looked closely at Porthos. 

"Porthos, how are you feeling?" He could not help but pull him into a hug. 

"Terrible," he grumbled, "But I'm still here so I guess that's a good thing." Aramis was overwhelmed with tears and could not find the words to respond. The, others waking to the sound of Aramis' sobs feared the worst. 

"Aramis?" Athos asked hesitantly, "Is he...."

"He's not dead," Porthos chimed in hoarsely and found himself immediately surrounded by the arms of his friends. "It's good to know you would have missed me." He grinned.

"More than you know my friend," Athos answered. 

Treville hung back until his men regained their composure and wiped away their tears before making his way over to the bed. "Glad to see you back son," the emotion was obvious in his voice as he gripped the younger man's hand. "You had us worried for a while there."

"Thank you captain." Porthos managed a tired grin, "It's not that easy to get rid of me."

"Don't I know it,"Aramis sniffled "Thank God." He kissed the cross hanging from his neck. 

Feeling secure that Porthos would survive, the captain took his leave to return to his office and follow up on the search for Martineau. The others sat around Porthos as he quickly drifted back off to sleep. Finally feeling relief, they dipped into the bread, cheese and wine that had come hours before with their supper. 

D'Artagnan and Athos soon drifted back to sleep but Aramis found he could not. He was afraid that somehow Porthos' condition might worsen once again. He stayed awake watching over him. 

It was late in the morning before the others roused with Porthos awakening soon thereafter. Once he asked for breakfast Aramis truly knew he was alright. Aramis gave him some water while D'Artagnan slipped off to get breakfast. The physician returned and was pleased with his condition. He expected his weakness to last for several days, but anticipated a full recovery. 

Porthos was itching to get out of bed but Aramis forbade it, fearful his legs were not yet strong enough to support him. By afternoon his badgering finally caused an exhausted Aramis to relent. It took all three of his friends to get him into the chair beside the bed. As soon as he was up he realized that Aramis was right. It was only stubbornness and pride that kept him upright for the five minutes he lasted before he started to slump in the chair. 

The others watched with concern, Athos and D'Artagnan looking to Aramis for direction. Aramis shook his head slightly allowing Porthos to make the decision. 

"Alright Aramis, you might been right," Porthos sighed defeatedly, "I guess I'm ready to go back to bed." He was unable to stand at all as his friends gently lifted him back into bed. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, clearly frustrated. 

Aramis sat of the edge of the bed and squeezed his arm, "You must be patient my friend, yesterday we worried that you would not even be with us today."

"I guess you're right." Porthos looked into Aramis' face seeing the exhaustion there. "I think you might even look worse than I do. Did you get any sleep at all?"

"A little," Aramis smiled,"I had more important things to deal with."

"Well now you've dealt with them, how about you go and get some sleep."

Aramis shook his head but before he could respond D'Artagnan interjected."Aramis, we'll be here with Porthos, you look exhausted. "

Athos agreed,"Get some rest, we'll come get you if we need you. "

Aramis protested and argued, finally compromising by climbing into the bed beside Porthos . Porthos chuckled softly as his friend drifted off even before he did. 

Athos and D'Artagnan felt they could finally relax as they watched their friends sleep. They talked softly about Martineau and his likely fate, wanting nothing more than to take the matter into their own hands. As evening fell D'Artagnan slipped out to get supper for the four of them. 

In the dining room he ran into Lavoie who was thrilled to hear of Porthos' recovery. "We owe it to you Lavoie," D'Artagnan's voice faltered as he was overcome with emotion. "Thank you." He grasped the younger man's hand. 

"I'm so glad to hear it," The young man smiled. "It was such a terrible thing, I still can hardly believe Martineau would do such a thing... He said such terrible things about Porthos, he called him a mongrel."

D'Artagnan felt his anger rise once again. "I'd like to take care of him myself, but I know the Captain will bring him to justice." Lavoie nodded, feeling badly that he had brought Martineau up to D'Artagnan. 

D'Artagnan turned back to Lavoie as he was about to return to Porthos' quarters. "Please stop by to see Porthos tomorrow. I know he'll be glad to see you and will want to thank you. "

He felt embarrassed. "I wouldn't want to intrude, I'm sure I'll see him once he's feeling better. "

"No, I mean it. We'd all like you to stop in. I'm sure we'll still be there tomorrow with him. " D'Artagnan waited for the recruit to agree before he nodded and left with a tray overflowing with food from Serge. When he returned Porthos and Aramis were just starting to stir.

Porthos and Aramis remained in bed and the others brought plates of food over to join them, sitting on the bed to eat. The four men ate in companionable silence, enjoying each other's company, each realizing how grateful he was for the bond they shared. It was something they always felt, but never so much as when they had come to losing one of their own. 

They had just finished eating when there was a knock on the door and Treville entered, a serious look on his face. "How are you Porthos?" He asked first, please to see his soldier looking a bit more like himself. 

"I'm feeling better Captain. Thank you."

"I'm glad to hear it." He smiled warmly at the Musketeer. 

All four men waited expectantly for Treville to speak, knowing he must have news. Finally Aramis could not contain himself. "Captain, do you have news? Have you found Martineau?"

Treville nodded but before he could reply D'Artagnan interjected, "Has he been imprisoned?"

We found him," Treville began, "Well, we found his body, he was dead."

The men were stunned into silence. After a moment it was Athos who asked how the recruit had died. "We believe that he was the victim of his own poison. He had a cut on his leg, looks like he was cut with his sword. He looked to have been dead since yesterday. 

"I can't say I'm sorry."Aramis declared,"I hope his soul rots in hell."

"Aramis!" Porthos looked at his friend in surprise. 

"He tried to kill you Porthos," He spoke softly,"Not in battle, not for a cause, not with honor. He nearly succeeded. I could never forgive that." Porthos reached out and took his hand squeezing it gently. The others found they could not disagree with his sentiment. 

"I talked to Lavoie and some of the other recruits, "Treville continued. "It seems most of the men avoided Martineau once he started complaining about Porthos and touting his own superiority and noble blood, but there may be a few who were following him. I'll be watching them closely."

"Thank you Captain," Athos offered. "Please let us know if we can be of any assistance."

Treville smiled, "Thank you but no Athos, I don't think you'd be the best men for the job. Besides you all have leave for the rest of the week. Porthos, we'll see how you're doing then."

"I'll be ready to come back Captain, don't you worry. "

"I hope so Porthos but if not we'll arrange whatever time you need." The captain bid his men good night and headed back to his office. A dead Musketeer, especially a recruit, meant hours of paperwork. 

None of the others could bring themselves to leave Porthos as the night wore on. Once Aramis had moved off the bed Porthos was surprised to find D'Artagnan in the spot beside him. The younger man feeling the need to be close to his friend. Athos had pulled a chair close to the bed, resting his feet on the mattress beside Porthos and Aramis ended up sprawled across the end of the bed. 

Porthos knew he should at least raise a half hearted argument to send them back to their own quarters, but he found he really didn't want them to leave any more than they did. He really hadn't yet been able to process all that had occurred in the previous few days and his weakened physical state still left him feeling vulnerable. The presence of his brothers allowed him to rest easily, knowing that these men would watch over him. As he drifted off to sleep he was grateful for the men beside him, feeling comfort and safety in their bond.


End file.
